


Seasons

by t0talcha0s



Category: Homestuck
Genre: And The World Spins Madly On, Dirk and Roxy move in together, Domestic, F/F, F/M, Multi, POV Dirk, Polyamory, Romantically written but the dirkroxy is platonic, Singing, season switches indicated by a hyphen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 12:10:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4136979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t0talcha0s/pseuds/t0talcha0s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seasons and lovers and lives shall come and go, but I, I shall stay eternally by your side. In every hell and every heaven, no matter what I shall destroy or create, I shall do it all if only for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasons

**Author's Note:**

> "I'll always love you and make you happy  
> If you will only say the same  
> But if you leave me to love another,  
> You'll regret it all one day"  
> \- third verse of You Are My Sunshine.

It's freezing outside, a thick layer of snow coating the ground. The tree branches are covered in a soft, twinkling sheen of ice as the sun threatens to melt it. Her breath fogs the window, and she presses her hand meaningfully against where yours is, resting on the other side of the glass. You can see your hands overlapping, and she writes into the glass next to hers. 

'Hey dickprince!' It reads and you laugh, and it feels good to do so. Light and delirious and happy, she mouths for you to let her in and you walk to the door to comply. The afterimages of a smile on your lips as she enters, bundled up in coats. A white, mid-thigh length coat with her big smile stuffed down into the pink and purple scarf your other sister made her. The white-blonde hair color the two of you share is hidden under the hood of her coat, but her pink eyes are vibrant and happy looking at you. She removes her coats and turns to you, unwrapping her scarf from around her neck and face. 

"Miss me Strider?" 

"Oh no, of course not. Miss who, you?" Your voice drips sarcasm and she laughs and pulls you into her, hugging her arms tight around your back and you return the embrace just as forcefully. She's cold from the outside, and the hand she had against your window is cooler on your back then the rest of her. 

"I'm here." She says almost reverently. 

"For a whole year." You haven't untangled from her, you're not sure if you ever want to. 

"We bought a house!" 

"We're renting a house, in a bad part of town, for dirt cheap, and rumors that it's haunted." 

"I think a drug dealer lives next door." 

"It'll make our parties more interesting." 

"Like you ever party Distri." You laugh and bury it in her hair so it rings through her head for eternity. 

"You're here." You say it like a prayer. 

"You're right Dirk that it is a party!" You pinch her side lightly and she cackles out a laugh, finally pulling away. "Hey help me unpack, we can figure out how we're going to decorate this ugly ass house too." You nod and her smile blinds you, putting every sun shining for eons to shame. You pull her suitcases into the house and show her to her room, just across from yours, a guest bedroom just down the hall from both of your rooms. You both agree to make it pin up president themed, with bright eggplant colored walls and yellow sheets and bedazzled pictures of presidents. You say just as long as you can bedazzle 'zesty' under Bill Clinton's face you'll be happy. She nods and her laugh is a thousand corrupt empires falling to the ground and peace being born anew. As she begins to unpack you sit on her bed unhelpfully and muse to yourself. 

"We'll be able to have Strilonde Christmas again." The words fall out of your mouth with such exquisite lightness. She turns from where she's placing her clothing into the drawers you bought from a thrift story downtown. 

"Oh my god." Her voice full of unchildlike happiness. "We can have Strilonde Christmas! We can make shitty matching sweaters and get a stupid tiny tree and make stupid ornaments-" She spouts off all the things she's excited for and you quip in with your own, nodding happily. 

"I'm so happy I'm here." She whispers to you later when she's all unpacked and you're both in pajamas curled up on the couch together, her arms wrapped around your waist and twin legs intertwined. 

"I missed you." You respond in kind. 

-

The weather outside is beautiful, to you at least. The beginning of spring, deep green starting to overtake the white and brown of winter. Thick grey rain clouds cast a distorted glow of sunlight through them as they blanket the sky and promise rain. Everything, even time, seems frozen in grey spring warmth. 

"Dirk." Roxy says, her foot kicking your shin from across the table. "You're staring outside and not focusing on this game, I could have whooped your ass four times over by now for all you know." 

"You would have had to cheat." You turn to look at her. Her sweater is the color of pale grapefruit, her shorts capture the lightness of the clouds outside and her eyes shine in a pink to put the neighbors budding garden roses to shame. You're sure your bland ensemble of black v-neck and grey skinny jeans hardly compares, especially with vibrant citrine eyes hiding behind your shades. You pick up your cards again however, and as you slide your pistol card over to her so she knows it wasn't the murder weapon she speaks.

"Callie and I met a girl." Calliope, her girlfriend of eight month, your mind rattles off the facts for you. A list of data arranging to make a picture of her girlfriend as you nod. 

"What's she like." 

"Her name's Jane." You nod and she hands you the dice. "We met her at the little May Day celebration festival thing downtown." You remember that, Roxy had brought you back a leather wallet emblazoned with a snake, snakes are awesome. "She runs a bakery on James, up by the shop that tries to pass off dildos as candle holders." You nod. 

"It was the butler with the rope in the kitchen." You interrupt. 

"Ha, wrong." She says, passing you the butler card. 

"I'm still going to win," you say, checking off the list and deducing colonel mustard was the killer. "But do you and Callie have a date with Jane soon?" 

"Friday." She said. "Also it was colonel mustard in the hallway with the candlestick." She sticks her tongue out at you. "So suck my newly romanticized ass Stridick." 

"I don't think Calliope or Jane would appreciate that." You chuckle, setting your cards down in defeat. 

"Loser has to clean up and winner gets to pick the movie!"

"I never agreed to those terms!" You call as she jumps out of her chair and darts into your room, where the laptop is. 

"Too late! We're watching horror!" You can't complain about that, you do love a good horror movie. You put all the cards in the box and fold the board up putting it in afterwords. 

Later when her bare legs are tangled with yours and she's draped on top of you, your hideous, ironic, handmade blanket covering you both, chin on the top of your head as you watch the movie you make sure to say to her,

"It's still so surreal that you're here." You pause then. "I'm so fucking happy you're here." She smiles and kisses the top of your head. 

"I couldn't be happier to be here." 

-

It is hot, too hot and humid, the yards in the neighborhood have turned brown with lack of rain and the nights spark with heat lightning. Roxy is sprawled across the couch with all of your fans pointed at her. She's wearing the tanktop you got her for Christmas, pink with 'you can't code with us' emblazoned on it. You also got yourself a matching one. She peels her legs off the couch and you plop yourself down where she was, putting your feet on the coffee table and reveling in the breeze. Your arm slings over the back of the couch and Roxy finds her way to fit neatly in it. Her shoulder blades press uncomfortably into your arm and the sweat of you both has you sticking together and you wouldn't want it any other way

"Cable's out." She says matter of factly. 

"Bill?"

"Water came first." You nod, there was nothing you wanted to watch on tv anyway. Her head comes to rest on your shoulder. "Dirk." 

"Yeah?"

"Sing for me."

"What?"

"Sing for me, actually sing." 

"I haven't sung," she joins you to say in unison, "since we were young." 

"I know. I just- I need to hear it." 

"I don't know." You used to sing to Roxy to ease her mind, it was the only way to get her to sleep when she went cold turkey. Whenever she was feeling her worst, whenever she relapsed, whenever she needed to know she was alive and loved she would ask you to sing. 

"Please?" She says it softly, the please ringing through the universe. Begging across planets and eons to relieve her. You nod and know what to sing. You clear your throat, turning to press your forehead to the top of her head and in a low tenor you mumble your song into her hair so it shall run through her head forever. 

"You are my sunshine." 

"Dirk no. Not that."

"My only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey." The song reminds you of dark days spent close together, holding her tight in fear because you believed if you curled yourself around her like armor nothing could hurt her. If only. She laughs but it sounds more like a sob then anything, your finger traces puzzles into her skin. "You'll never know dear how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away." You pause and she says, voice thick with tears, of nostalgia and the sadness that brings 

"There's another verse." 

"Your turn." You say softly, under your breath. "Go on, I know you know it." 

"It's the sadder verse." The verse you used to sing to her with tears in your eyes, the only noise cutting through the eerie night silence your prepubescent voice acting as something for her to hold on to. She sings in a quiet, wavering, heavy soprano. 

"The other night dear, when I was sleeping I dreamt I held you in my arms," you pull her tighter into you. "But when I woke up I was mistaken, so I hung my head down and cried." She holds out the last note longer then you ever did, and the two of you stay silent holding each other as if to assure the other it wasn't a dream, but a finally happy reality. 

"I love you, so much." It sounds like a secret when you say it so quietly, and the crickets outside time the silence with their song.

"I love you too."

-

Thick piles of leaves line your front yard, the curse of having many beautiful tall trees around your street. It's the epitome of a crisp fall day, leaves at optimum crunchiness, air cool and wind mild. It's perfect. It's even more perfect when Roxy grabs onto your arm and wrenches you down into the biggest pile of leaves with a major crunch. You drop your rake and it bounces off the ground with a soft 'whomp'. A few leaves get caught into your hair, and a few others are definitely in your hood but you can't bring yourself to care. Roxy's t-shirt is a red that reminds you of home and her jeans are the ones you tried on when the two of you were switching clothing one bored night. She removes her grip from your arm and laughs, and it puts the beautiful landscape around you to shame and you would slaughter millions to keep her happy. 

"For thanksgiving," you say turning your head to look at her and despising the crunching noise it makes. "We should invite over Calliope and Jane if they're not busy. So it's not just us eating frozen peas and stove top mashed potatoes again." She nods. 

"Jane's going out of town for thanksgiving to be with her family but I don't know about Callie. I can't entice her with offers of meeting wacky extended family," because you're all the family that remains for her. "So I'd have to work hard to get he here." 

"You don't have to." 

"No I want to, besides if she brings her brother, you deal with him so well." 

"The waggly eyebrows from you don't help." You pinch her bicep and she lightly thwacks your thigh in retaliation. Roxy cackles at your overdramatic display of faux hurt, an old woman walking her dogs gives the two of you a disappointed glare. You look over at Roxy in the branch filtered light, hair shining and smile wide, she is a goddess to you. Your Demeter, the force driving the seasons, the harvest of your happiness. She is your hades, choosing what eternal damnation you deserve. She is your pantheon, she is your everything. A soft smile settles into your eyes. "Never leave." The words fall from your mouth as waves hit the shore, a brisk wake up call, she simply smiles away your concern. 

"I wouldn't dream of it."

**Author's Note:**

> I get emotional over dirkroxy.  
> This is not fluff  
> Hmu a Barefootcosplayer on tumblr.


End file.
